


riptide

by WonderTwinC



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-04
Updated: 2015-06-04
Packaged: 2018-04-02 19:13:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4071397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WonderTwinC/pseuds/WonderTwinC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laurel took a step forward as Nyssa nodded her head somewhat, her gaze unfocused. She turned to look at her. The wound on her neck forgotten.</p>
<p>“And what would you have of me, Laurel?”</p>
<p>[Set during 3x21 in between when Laurel saves Nyssa from Oliver and when Diggle and Felicity burst onto the scene.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	riptide

**Author's Note:**

> Just know that a) I never, ever, rarely ever write things like this. I can't even remember the last time that I tried. B) I have never written anything like this for such a pairing so try and be kind.

“Well if he can change, then why can’t you?”

Laurel took a step forward as Nyssa nodded her head somewhat, her gaze unfocused. She turned to look at her. The wound on her neck forgotten.

“And what would you have of me, Laurel?”

“You,” she confessed softly. She took another step to bridge the gap between them. She touched Nyssa’s right cheek with tentative fingers. “Just you.”

They were so close that Nyssa experienced the warmth of Laurel’s breath against her skin, watched the way her eyes darkened with desire. She looked at her, felt the tremble of Laurel’s fingers against her cheek, and she kissed her.

It only served to make the fire inside of Nyssa burn brighter. The cloth in her bandaged hand dropped to the floor as grasped at Laurel’s costume, the leather stiff and unyielding beneath her fingers. The hand against her cheek steadied, curving carefully around her jaw in a gentle hold. Nyssa felt Laurel’s other hand brush against her side before coming to rest against her hip, fingers flexing and curling against her undershirt.

Every nerve ending in her body seemed to come alive. She breathed in, felt the heat of Laurel against her skin, tasted the hint of something sweet on the other woman’s tongue.

Laurel pulled back. She stared at Nyssa with a glassy, dazed expression. “Okay,” she murmured as she lick her bottom lip, “that was good.”

Nyssa laughed. It was a sound that pooled in Laurel’s gut. Nyssa used her hold on the front of Laurel’s outfit to pull her in until they were inches apart, no space left between them. She could feel the rise and fall of her chest - see the droplets of sweat that slid down her skin and gathered at the collar of her jacket. She ached.

She had allowed herself to be open with Laurel. She had allowed herself to feel in a way that she had not since Sara’s death and it should be a betrayal and a great many other things, but all that she could be bothered to feel was… _happy_.

Whatever this could be, whatever it was, Nyssa felt like it was spiraling out of control.

She looked into Laurel’s eyes, wide and dark and beautiful.

It was like a silent surrender.

Laurel’s hand slid beneath the hem of her black tank top, smoothing over old scars as she lowered her head. Their lips met, gentle at first. Nyssa’s nimble fingers worked at the buckles that secured the leather get up that Laurel wore, starting at her neck and working down. The world burned away around her, around them. Her skin prickled with want and desire, raising goosebumps along her arms.

The kiss turned more insistent as Laurel grew bolder. She coaxed a low, agonized sound from Nyssa’s chest as she deepened the kiss, her tongue sliding past parted lips. Nyssa pushed her jacket off her shoulders. The leather hit the ground behind them and her fingers brushed against Laurel’s bare shoulders, exploring. The sensation churned in her gut to mix with the hunger that she already felt for the other woman.

It was dizzying.

They parted long enough for Laurel to rid Nyssa of her shirt. It joined her jacket on the floor of the abandoned warehouse as she let her eyes roam over newly exposed skin, taking it all in. There were scars, faint lines of white here and there along Nyssa’s torso. Fear and uncertainty settled heavy in the assassin’s gut as the seconds ticked away and Laurel continued to stare at her.

She could still taste Laurel on her tongue and felt the heat of her gaze as it seared her skin. Her lips tingled from their kisses. Nyssa opened her mouth to speak but faltered at the yearning that she found on the other woman’s face.

Laurel reached for her. She curled her fingers in the front of Nyssa’s pants, nails scraping against bare skin as she stepped in. The uncertainty that Nyssa felt was reflected in the lawyer’s touch, in the way that her fingers trembled against her stomach.

It emboldened her.

Nyssa guided Laurel toward her mattress in the corner, barely big enough for the both of them. Danger and desire warred in her gut as Laurel lowered herself onto the bed. One of Laurel’s hand reached for Nyssa’s, catching at her wrist instead. Nyssa watched her face with rapt attention as she crawled onto the mattress, coaxing Laurel to lay back with her legs dangling off the side.

Her fingers brushed against Laurel’s stomach as she settled herself, plucking at the intricate black material that Laurel wore under her Black Canary outfit. It earned a laugh out of other woman. A laugh that quickly turned into a choked, stuttering breath as Nyssa lowered her head and nipped at her bare shoulder.

Her lips twitched in dark amusement, warm breath caressing Laurel’s shoulder intimately. Their eyes met.

Nyssa could feel the static crackle between them. The bed creaked softly as Laurel shifted beneath her, raising herself up on her arms until she was so close that Nyssa’s vision of her blurred.

"Nyssa," Laurel spoke her name with great care, a note of longing wrapped around the word.

“And is this what friends do?” Nyssa asked. Her fingers grazed Laurel’s hip and she pushed the fabric there out of her way.

Laurel rested her hands against Nyssa’s sides. Her nails dug uncomfortably at her skin, leaving half moons in their wake. “No,” she answered after a moment. She bit her bottom lip, sucking the flesh between her teeth as she weighed her options. “Do labels really matter?”

“No,” Nyssa replied as she stared down at her.

The hunger in Laurel’s eyes spurred Nyssa forward and they crashed together in a tangle of lips and limbs. They kissed and touched and breathed each other in until Laurel whispered Nyssa’s name as she shook.

Nyssa would have this moment as she faced her demons.

She pressed her lips to Laurel’s throat, fingers digging against her skin.

It would be enough.

 

 


End file.
